she wears lilacs in her hair
smells of peppermint and honeysuckle
wide hips
songs on her lips
breezy skirt and a tank top
and that little spot
of skin just below the
small of her back radiating
the heat-magic
spring-beat
love-dance
when she walks
ass bouncing with birdsong grooves
dirty toes and freckled nose
crinkled twinkle-eyes --
two bluebells
green vines slide
from her fingertips
skin misted with sweat-dew
"april showers"
she smiles
teeth spark
like mica in the sun
her laugh whips through
limbs of the apple tree
waking leaves
shattering frail blossoms whose
petals whirl to the ground
her voice thundering toward the sky
and back down again
swooping in a howl
cleansing death from the air
About the Creator
My First Time Skiing and I Got Lost, Alone, in the French Alps
Looking back, I can trace some of my life’s biggest adventures to a simple action from my sister. She’d introduced me to Tommy (a very long time ago), a colleague of hers, who had overshared his penchant for Italian-looking women, and I ticked that box.
By Chantal Christie Weissabout 11 hours ago in Humans
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